At two in the morning the freezing drizzle comes across the river out of Missouri and lays a skin of ice over everything Wood River owns: steps, sidewalks, the slope of every driveway apron. Fair Snow Removal is out in it, plowing drives and lots, cutting walkways open down to the surface, spreading salt so the first person through the door in the dark stays on their feet. Over at Roxana the refinery lights burn all night, and a shift change does not wait on weather. The satisfaction here is narrow and complete: one black driveway in a white town, cleared before anybody needed it.